


Ugly Mug

by InkyJustine



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyJustine/pseuds/InkyJustine
Summary: Eskel hadn't considered himself a beauty before anyway...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone else ship this?

He hadn’t exactly been the prettiest of them before Deidre had raked her claws across his face. Eskel knew this, had known this every time he stood beside Geralt or saw a lady’s eyes look him up and down. Now, it was quite likely that disgust would be added to people’s gazes. Eskel didn’t look forward to it, even though he would get used to it. Had to.

_They already called them freaks._

Eskel let his own eyes trail over the damage reflected in the mirror he was holding. Right behind him, looking over his shoulder, was Geralt. In direct comparison to Geralt’s handsome face the scar looked even worse.

“I’m never getting laid again.” The words slipped out, not because Eskel was vain or because he mourned his now gone beauty, that he hadn’t possessed in the first place, but because the mood had grown heavier the moment he had laid eyes on himself in the mirror with Geralt hovering behind him as if to gear up to console his weeping form.

And Eskel’s face _had_ fallen when he had caught sight of himself. The sorceress was already gone. It wasn’t like he would have gone to her anyway, begging her to fix it. Him. He was lucky to have kept his life.

Behind him, Geralt transfered his somber gaze from the red and angry looking scar to Eskel’s eyes and Eskel would have flinched if he weren’t a witcher, at the heat that slowly started sweltering in those golden eyes.

“You think so?”, Geralt asked and it took a moment for Eskel to work out what he meant. The look had unbalanced him.

He turned his eyes back to the scar, a fresh wound just a few days ago. It lead up from his temple over his cheek to his mouth. Deidre had cut open his lip as well and magic had healed it in a way that left one of his teeth visible through the tiny gap. Not that a potion or nature’s course would have done a better job in that regard.

“No one’s gonna line up to fuck me, looking like this,” Eskel pointed out and looked away from his reflection. “They didn’t before.” It was like his gaze was caught by Geralt’s, drawn there as if by magic. A moment later he felt the White Wolf’s hands on his waist and Geralt’s chest against his back. Then Geralt took the mirror from his unresisting hand and smashed it against a far wall.

“What the hell, Geralt?”, Eskel asked. He didn’t expect a reply and didn’t get one beyond Geralt turning him around to face him.

Geralt’s gaze raked over his face not unlike Deidre’s claws, if severely less painful, and Eskel leaned forward to kiss Geralt before the other could. The hands on his waists slid up and he was pushed back until the back of his knees hit his bed. They’d wrestled between the sheets before, but Eskel’s mouth still hung open, more so due to surprise at the sudden change than awe, when Geralt unceremonial pulled his shirt over his head and crawled over Eskel.

“I’ll make sure you’ll get laid plenty,” Geralt assured him and Eskel found himself grinning and then wincing, because damn that hurt a bit

**Author's Note:**

> I'll actually write more for this pairing. Apparently I hate validation. xD


End file.
